


Flowers for a Dragon

by AbsinthexMind



Series: Oh brother where art thou [35]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anger, Apologies, Betrayal, Brother/Sister Incest, Cheating, F/M, Flirting, Hurt, Incest, Makeup Sex, Partner Betrayal, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:59:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind
Summary: Tumblr RequestHe had named the Northern girl his Queen of Love and Beauty instead of you, his wife and sister. Rhaegar gave flowers to the Direwolf instead of to his supposedly beloved Dragon.





	Flowers for a Dragon

You were smiling as your brother won the tourney, elegant and beautiful. Clapping along with everyone else at his lovely execution of his technique. Rhaegar took off his helmet, silver hair spilling out. In his hand he held a crown made of delicate blue winter roses. His steed trots towards the stands, as he moved his armor shimmered from the sun’s illustrious rays. The Targaryen sigil burning a bright red in the day, nearly looking akin to a brand. You recall earlier that morning how you had helped him into his armor. It was a ritual you always went through when he was going to participate in a tourney. He wouldn’t let anyone else help him but you. Not even his squire. After you were done he would run his hand, skilled hands that strummed lovingly on his lute, through your own wealth of silver tresses. He would tilt your head upward for a kiss. 

Hands halt mid clap however when you notice your brother isn’t riding toward you. He is on his way toward Lyanna Stark. The crowd grows deathly silent as Rhaegar crowns Lyanna his Queen of Love and Beauty. A title that should have been your’s. You feel a harsh flush creep up onto your cheeks as you feel a thousand eyes stare in your direction. You were his wife after all. That title should have fallen onto you. There were whispers. How you hated the hushed tone of whispers. You had been hearing whispers all your life in the Red Keep about your father. Now they were about you. 

Heart lurching into your throat, you try your best to continue to appear regal even though you wanted to flee. Flee far away from Harrenhal. Your fingers desperately grip at the fabric of your skirt, not knowing what else to do. 

All you could do was glare at him and when the next two men were preparing to duel, you slip out of the stands to give your brother a piece of your mind.  
  
  
  


“You’ve made a fool of me! How could you do that?!” You growl at him once you trap him in his tent. “Giving that crown to Lyanna Stark. Have you no shame at all? Have you no love for me?” 

“Don’t say such things.” Rhaegar pleads and tries to reach out to you but you’re quick to slap his hand away. Narrowing your lavender eyes into piercing slits as he tries to explain himself. “Lyanna Stark is. . . is simply lovely and I wanted to show her that such beauty is appreciated.” 

Scoffing you fold your arms in front of your chest. “Oh, I see. Am I not lovely enough then to be your Queen of Love and Beauty? Have you grown tired of me?” 

“No. Of course not sweet sister.” You hated when he used that gentle voice on you when you were trying to be mad at him. It always made you melt. Even in childhood when you would throw a tantrum, Rhaegar was the only one able to calm down your tempers. He would lovingly say that it was the dragon in you unfolding it’s wings. It was the same voice he used to propose to you. Not because it was expected of him to wed his sister, but because the two of you were genuinely in love. “My heart is your’s. I could never grow tired of you.” 

“But you have. That gesture to Lyanna was proof enough of that.” Clenching your jaw you hold in all the fire in your chest. Catching a glance at your bed, a bed you had shared in Rhaegar’s arms the previous night, you feel the fire simmer into sorrow. “What will happen now? Will you wish to take her as a second wife? How very Targaryen of you brother.” 

Rhaegar follows your gaze to the bed. He too remembered the night you had spent together. Naked as the day you were born. Him worshipping your body. Always worshipping your body and giving you sweet praises that would make any maiden blush. He had promised that that would be the night he would give you a prince. You had yet to get pregnant and you feared that you would be just like your mother in that way. She had told you how difficult her pregnancies were and how many times she had miscarried. A part of you thought that maybe that was why Rhaegar had done what he did. Because you weren’t giving him a child. Maybe Lyanna could. 

You didn’t want to say that thought out loud. It was too painful to even think about because you knew that it had to be the most likely theory. 

Bottom lip quivering, you harshly push open the flap to your grand tent and stormed out. Not before bumping into a armor clad chest. Puzzled you gaze up at the tall knight only to realize that this knight was in fact a lord. A lord with long, dark hair; darker than any shade of black you had seen and steely gray eyes that clashed greatly with his overly dark attire. Full lips part slightly before he kneels before you. 

“Your Grace.” 

After the encounter you had just had with your brother you’re at a loss for words as you stare at the northern man. “Ser. . .” 

“Lord Brandon Stark.” He lifts his face up, a finely sculpted nose compliments the rest of his features. Lips that had been formed in a grimace turn up in a smile. “Princess (y/n) Targaryen, it’s an honor to meet you.” 

You clear your throat, trying to regain your regal composure. “Ah yes. Lord Brandon Stark. An honor to meet you as well. You fought well in the tourney. As well as anyone could against my brother.” 

“Thank you, Your Grace.” He stands back up to tower over you. You would admit that he was quite handsome. You never had been attracted to anyone else but your brother. “About what your brother has done. . .” Brandon hesitantly goes on. 

Closing your eyes it’s your turn to grimace, hands clenching. “Yes. I apologize for my brother’s behavior. I know Lyanna is already betrothed to Lord Robert Baratheon-” 

“Oh no. That isn’t what I meant at all.” He gently intervenes. “I was going to say he should be ashamed for scorning someone as beautiful as you. To go after another woman when he has a beauty right by his side. It’s quite dishonorable. Sorry for my bluntness.” 

A blush warms up your cheeks. “No. . . It’s. . . It’s alright.” 

“Obviously it’s not. I can’t imagine how anyone could treat you like that. Of course it’s an insult to my own sister, but to you? It should be downright treasonous. If you were my wife-” 

“But she’s not your wife, Lord Stark.” Comes a warning voice from behind you. A voice as sharp as a blade. 

That standard Stark harshness settles over Brandon’s face. Eyes once again hardening and lips pursing. “Then treat her as she should. You’d do best to stay away from my sister as well. You have your own. A beautiful one at that.” He turns to you, nodding briefly with a small smile before walking away. 

Rhaegar stands beside you, glaring at the back of Brandon’s head. 

“The nerve of you to act possessive when you just outright showed your want for Lyanna. You’ve insulted their whole family. Do you know how that makes you l-” 

You couldn’t finish your scolding as Rhaegar grabs both sides of your face and kisses you. He literally lifts you off your feet to where the tips of your toes barely brush the ground. Unbeknownst to you he pulls you back into the tent without breaking the liplock. Once he finally decides to release you you gaze at him in a daze. Eyelashes fluttering open slowly as if you had just been woken up. 

“You are mine and I am your’s.” Words that he had recited at your wedding ceremony. “From this day till the end of my days.” 

Inhaling sharply you say “You’re a fool.” 

“Yes I am.” Rhaegar solemnly smiles. “Will you still love this fool?” 

You place your hands on his chest, fingers running along the shape of the three headed Targaryen dragon. “Till the end of my days.” 

He leans down for another kiss, hands gripping at each side of your rear and lifting you up with ease. You feel him carry you to your bed. The sound of soldiers and jubilant lords clamoring around were numb to your ears as your brother delicately lays you down. His silver hair falls over his eyes as he leans over you, pushing your dress up your body. Rhaegar always looked incredibly sexy when his hair was a mess and still in his armor. 

Rhaegar trails kisses in the inside of your leg. Sweet lips lightly sucking in certain areas that made you squirm. He drew nearer and nearer to your heated core as he deftly pulled aside your panties. Breath giving your cunt a kiss before he dived in. You try not to immediately tilt your hips up to meet his lips. Using one hand he runs it up your thigh, curling his fingers to grip onto it while position your leg to rest on his shoulder as he presses his mouth closer to your cunt. His tongue makes long, slow, strips up your cunt; nipping your inner thigh every so often. You roll your head back once Rhaegar sticks the tip of his tongue inside of you and makes quick darting motions. From your cunt to your clit he sucks on the already sensitive bud making your muscles seize up. While his mouth is busy with your clit, his fingers delve inside of your pussy. Pumping them in and out in such a perfect rhythm with his tongue circling around your button. The perverse sound of it was enough to make your moans become more begging and high pitched. And then he curled his fingers ever so gently inside of you. 

A woman could only take so much before she begins to reach her limit. 

Truly it wasn’t his hands that were the skilled ones, it was his mouth. Fingers and mouth worked together to finish you off. Every nerve of your body exploded as you convulsed, legs spasming outward. 

Finally Rhaegar resurfaced, wiping his mouth with his arm, eyes pinpointed on your shaking legs and wet cunt. 

You must’ve looked a mess. What would people think if they saw their princess in such a state. Cheeks blazing and skirt hiked up over your stomach. Only Rhaegar would ever get to see you in such a state. In all of your life you had only ever wanted Rhaegar. 

He licks your wetness off of his fingers and that action alone made you ready for round two.


End file.
